One week in my new home...

One week ago I arrived in Guinea! What a LONG week! It has been jam packed with meetings, orientations, long conversations among new friends, adventurous walks, tons of games among crew-mates, a few french lessons, and many many emotions. It has been so interesting living in a place where you are constantly smiling, on your best behavior, and forging friendships that may last the remainder of your life. During all of this, at least once we have all confessed to feeling very overwhelmed. Taking a few moments to process and reflect has been essential. It has been best described as the “freshman” experience---but it is starting to wind down. We are comfortable with each other....we are forming a normal routine...and tonight, after spending 9am-10pm together, it felt like a home. I feel known by these lovely ladies and a few brave men. We can just “be” together, and it feels right. It feels that God has brought us here all for different reasons, but that we came and are forming a beautifully woven life for ourselves. 

Saturday we had originally planned on heading out to an island to adventure. The plan changed though when we found out that many locals drowned in a boating accident on the way to the island Friday. During our morning walk Sunday we learned that there were actually about 24 locals who died, and a large majority were women and children. It was heartbreaking to walk past where all the crowds are gathered, still waiting to see if they can find their loved ones bodies. We actually were present while they were rushing the shore, we said a silent prayer- aware that they had probably found someones mother, daughter, child or friend. We were told by locals that even the President stopped by to pay his respects, a few even said that he was crying. What a loss for these people. We hope that this horrible accident could maybe cause life jackets to be worn, or to be even that they would become an option in these boats to prevent future accidents. We hope that the Guinean people will be comforted during this terrible time. 

As for our adventure Saturday, we decided out of respect and safety to keep our feet on solid ground. We were led by two day workers here on the ship out to explore the city of Conakry. Dayworkers are men and women from the community who are working on the ship in various departments. Some of them work in laundry, the cafeteria, as deck hands, and many as translators in the wards. This is yet another part of Mercy Ship’s mission that I love. We come and hire the locals, give them a vital role in what we are doing and pay them a living wage. It is amazing that we DEPEND on them, what pride to know that you are helping to change the lives of your fellow countrymen. Without them, we could not translate to so many of the patients who do not even speak French, but tribal languages. All of the dayworkers I have met this far are wonderful, and are so helpful! They want to “show off” their country, and make sure that we have a true “Guinean experience”. 

Daniel and Morlai showed us the way. They took us first to a museum. The Museum de Conakry! It was so wonderful to learn more of the culture and what life looked like here during the French colonization. The matron of the museum was very happy to show us around and tell us so much of their rich culture. One of our nurses here on the wards is from France, so she served as a translator for the group. Did I mention there were 19 of us? Yes- thats 19! What a herd of “foo-tees” (white people) we were traipsing around the town. On a side note, we did pay the “stranger” price of 10,000 Guinean Franks, which is roughly $1.50, and double the entry fee of a local. (We were all very happy to contribute to the museum, even if it was double the normal fare)  We learned of the many officers and governors who brought different things to Guinea, like a railway, healthcare, and some western practices. We heard about the different parts of Guinea, the ethnic groups of the lower, middle, upper, and forest regions of the country and a little about life there. I found it really interesting that in the Forest region of Guinea the teen boys are sent out to the forests for seven years to live. It is in this time that they are to learn to be members of society, learn a trade, and learn to survive. For 7 years they rely on the protection of a legendary figure, and are said to be the only ones to see this mythical man. Upon returning to their families they are considered men and will take a wife to begin a family. We saw many large drums and learned a bit about the way they communicate between villages. The tour guide made a joke about transportable drums as “mobile phones” and the tree sized ones to be “land lines”. The tour was great, we learned so much about the cultures, their traditions, and their history.  It was a wonderful lesson about this place we are calling home. 

We then had another 45 minute walk through town to a cafe where we could sit beside the ocean and relax, enjoy a soda, and visit. The entire walk it was pouring down rain, but hey--once your soaking wet it’s just a part of the adventure! While walking it is great for people to recognize why we are here, and show appreciation for what we plan to do. As we walk through the streets many want to say hello, all the children want to touch our white skin, and many will just shout “Mercy Ship!” then smile and wave. We really are a white skinned parade! Once reaching the cafe,we sat for a bit trying to dry under the thatched roof. We were given a special musical presentation by a band consisting of 6 young men who played their heart out on local instruments, the beautiful ocean behind them. While leaving the cafe, a little boy came running over, trying to touch our hands. After getting closer we realized that he had the typical features of Down’s Syndrome. This little man looked so loved. We were so happy that he appeared to have family caring for him, and it brought up a lot of interesting conversations about the prevalence here of various birth defects and syndromes. I think because we know the reality that many children are cast out for being different, we all were so delighted for this little guy, he was happy as a clam. 

Once leaving the cafe we took another 30 minute trek over to one of the markets. It was a large mix of food, cleaning supplies, cloths, and crafts. We did not stop long to look, but merely made a trip through. I think we walked more quickly then we might have on any other day because of the mud and relentless rain. After walking for nearly 4 hours our feet were all soaked in mud. Just a few days after our class on cholera, worms, and parasites- we felt the need to not let our feet marinate just yet. We will go back though, and I cannot wait to see what we can find tucked away in the markets. 

Walking through the streets we were able to get a glimpse at life here. I really don’t know how to tell you all the things going through our head. Some would instantly say that it is so impoverished.  Yes, this is definitely true to our standards. There is trash standing everywhere, standing water appears contaminated, buildings are abandoned half built, people are living in shacks, and there are dogs and vultures littered about. But, if you look closer, they seem so rich and the streets so alive. Rich with culture, rich with love for their country, and rich with love for one another. Every woman has a baby strapped to her back, something balancing on her head, and is working hard in order to make a way for her family. Yes, there is trash, there is mud, and there are many diseases killing people for lack of clean water. There is heartache and there is crime, but there is also a sense of hope for what is to come. I honestly cannot put it all into words, but Conakry has a beautiful story to tell, and it has already found a special place in my heart. 

Tonight we are making 1800 peanut butter sandwiches to take to the screening tomorrow. They are handing out bread and water throughout the night to those who have been waiting in line since Sunday afternoon for a chance to be seen. These people waiting in long lines come full of hope. Hope that their life can be changed by this group of westerners on a big white ship. Hope that they will then be reaccepted into society. Hope that their family will care for them once again, and hope that their children will not grow up as outcasts. For some, this is the last time they will have this hope before their illness takes their life. We will see people who are literally suffocating from their tumors. We will see babies who are dying from malnutrition due to a cleft lip and palate. We will see kids with leg deformities, scars from burns, things we would never dream of seeing in the United States.  As shocking as this will be to so many of us, the worst part is that we will not be able to help them all. We will take the infants into our feeding programs, attempt to get them to a safe weight for surgery- but there are no guarantees. We will agree to treat all that we can with these suffocating tumors, but since there is no place for chemotherapy or radiation here in Guinea, we will not be able to treat those determined to be cancerous. Instead we will match them up with our palliative care team, and treat them with dignity and respect, caring for them in their last days. So we need prayers. Prayers that we can help many tomorrow, prayers to stay strong ourselves while seeing such devastating conditions, and prayers to keep us safe.  Through all of this emotional overload, we should not forget to give praise that we have been given this amazing opportunity. To love and serve those who have been forgotten by so many others. I hope to post next with details from our screening.